Monday, October 19, 2009

BECALMED : A 10 Minute Play by Liz Duffy Adams, Part II

CALIBAN: You’re back.

MIRANDA: I’m back.

ARIEL: Slumming?

MIRANDA: Back for good, back forever, exiled. Again.


ARIEL: Exiled?


MIRANDA: I’m exiled, it was a disaster, those people are lunatics. I thought they were so beautiful, so lovely, so kind. But I couldn’t please them, they had the craziest ideas. All I did was go to bed with men. Why not? They’re such fabulous creatures, all stubble and sweat and smooth flesh. Just looking at them made me want to kiss them and touch them and roll around on them with my clothes off. But it made everyone lose their minds. Just go absolutely nuts. And the more I loved them the less they liked me till suddenly it was Go get out back in the boat you fishy whore. Brave new world my ass.

CALIBAN: You can roll around on me naked, heh heh.

MIRANDA: We’ll see.


MIRANDA: We’ll see, we’ll see, I may. You’re a monster but I think I’ll miss the touching, now I’ve gotten used to it.

[She sees the staff ends finally.]

What are you doing? Give me that.

[She takes the staff halves.]

What are you still doing here, anyway? Didn’t my father free you?

ARIEL: Why didn’t he come back with you?

MIRANDA: He’s dead.

[They stare at her.]

I know. But he is. They burned him on a pyre and fireworks shot out. Scared everyone witless. I still can hardly believe he’s gone. He would have protected me from the rabble, but it was after the funeral they all turned on me. I’ve lost everything. Except this island, and these bits of wood. So I guess the question is, am I my father’s daughter, or not?

CALIBAN: He’s dead?

ARIEL: He’s really gone?

CALIBAN: He’s dead?

ARIEL: He’s gone for good?

CALIBAN: He’s dead?

MIRANDA: The sorcerer is dead. Long live the sorcerer. As soon as I fix this. Don’t bow. It’s not going to be like before.

CALIBAN [confused]: It isn’t?

MIRANDA: No. I’m not going to be a tyrant like my father.

ARIEL [skeptical]: You aren’t?

MIRANDA: No! Well, I’ll hold absolute power at first, of course. That’s all you’re used to. And I can see you’ve let the place go to hell, so we’ve got that to deal with. Easier if there’s someone in charge. But eventually, when you’re ready, I’ll teach you guys how to think for yourselves and we’ll be a democracy. Or a parliamentary monarchy. Or something.

ARIEL: Right. You’ll give up power.

MIRANDA: I will.

ARIEL: I’ll believe that when I see it.

MIRANDA: Shut up.

ARIEL: You’re all the same, you idealists; velvet gloves aching for a fist.

MIRANDA: Fuck you.

CALIBAN: Hey, hey—

ARIEL: Nice, very parliamentary.

MIRANDA: Stop goading me!

ARIEL: You’ve got the staff, why don’t you use it? Afraid to rule over a fairy and one half-assed monster?


ARIEL [continuous]: You aren’t your father’s daughter, you’re just an everyday random little orphaned slut.

MIRANDA: I said shut up!

ARIEL: Make me.

MIRANDA [brandishing the staff]: Be still I command you!

[She has put the staff back together. Special effects! Thunder and lightening! Ariel and Caliban cower. Even Miranda is staggered.]

CALIBAN [aside to Ariel]: That’s more like it.


ARIEL: Welcome home.